Duplicity
By Divamercury
Well, enjoy this last bit of fun. Hope you all are enjoying this so farit's about to get interesting. Thanks for all the support. At least now I realize that people actually do care whether I post or not. Keep those reviews coming, though! Love you all!
~DM
Chapter 10
I crept back into my apartment, not even wanting to look at the clock to see what time it was because I knew it would only depress me. I gently set my gear down near the door, considering it would be easier to get to if I grabbed it on the way out in a few short hours. I approached the bed and undressed slowly, gingerly sliding back into bed. Ian was a really light sleeper and I didn't want to wake him unnecessarily. I felt my pillow and noticed that the note was missing. He must have awoken while I was gone.
Shit,' I thought. I had been hoping that I'd be able to throw the note away without him ever seeing it, butoh, well. I took a chance by sliding over closer to him and he stirred a little. Don't wake up, don't wake up,' I thought.
"Sara?" he murmured.
Shit.' "Yeah, it's me, baby. Sorry I woke you up."
" S okay. I was just dozingwaiting for you."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know. Aren't I wonderful?" Even though it was dark I knew he was grinning.
"Smart ass."
"Yes, but I'm a cute smart ass."
"Can't argue with that." I smiled as one of Ian's arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer.
"So what was so important that your partner dragged you away from me?" he asked, leaning over to kiss me.
"Mmmm" I smiled against his lips. "Connor was convinced that he'd bagged Irons's killer, like I said in my note."
"I see. Who did he think it was?"
"Gina."
"Gina! Gina Ramirez?"
"Yup."
Ian seemed startled. "That's not possible. She was a very nice girl, even though she tended to have a fixation on her fingernails earlier in her employment, butI'm nearly positive that she wouldn't in her wildest dreams have killed Irons. She needed the money he was paying her."
"That's what she said."
"How was she implicated?"
"They found a packet of the same drug that killed Irons on her desk. I know, I know, that could have gotten there in a million different ways. Connor locked her up, though, and as much as I don't like it, we're going to have to keep her for a little while considering she's the only thing close to a suspect we have. We won't be able to keep her for very long without charges, so" I let my sentence trail off.
"Well, I guess I can forgive him this once," Ian said. "However, if this begins to be a habit, I won't be so forgiving."
"That's almost what I told him as I was leaving tonight."
"Well, I think we should shut up and go back to sleep now, because you are going to have a long day tomorrow."
"You're right. Ian?"
"Yes, love?"
"Am I cursed to be forever saddled with impulsive, goofy rookies?" I asked.
Ian chuckled. "I can't say I know the answer to that question. But this rookie seems a vast improvement over your last one"
"Yeah, yeah, Jake bad, Connor good. More or less, anyway. I got it. Good night."
"Good night, my love."
My alarm clock rang with its usual frustrating regularity and woke me up way too soon. I didn't want to get out of bed any more than I wanted to face the day at the precinct. I was about to slap it to make it shut up but Ian beat me to it.
"Sara. I know you don't want to get up but you're going to be busy today," he said.
"I know," I muttered into my pillow. "I'm just trying to pretend that I don't."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ian grin wickedly. Not a good sign. Uh-oh,' I thought a split second before he pounced. He wrapped both arms around my waist and hauled me off the bed, me kicking and fighting the entire time. It was useless, though; his arms were stronger than steel and I had no chance.
"Ian!" I actually squealed. "Put me down!"
"You promise you'll get ready for work?" he teased, swinging me around as easily as though I were a rag doll.
"You drive too hard a bargain and I can't negotiate with you," I said. In response to this he started tickling me in the only place where such a feat could be attempted and endeavors succeed: my ribs.
"Come on, give up. You know you want to," he murmured in my ear, continuing mercilessly.
"Never!"
"Okay, then I have to keep doing this," he said.
"Quit it! Ian, stop it!"
"Say it!"
Seeing I was going to get absolutely nowhere if I didn't give in, I said, "Fine. Uncle! I surrender!"
"And you'll get ready for work?"
"Yes, damn it, now let me go!"
Ian grinned and put me down. I punched him in the shoulder. "What was that all about?" I asked indignantly.
"I was trying to think of a way to get you out of bed and along the way I got a littlecreative."
"Creative. Hmmm." I glared at him for about half a second and then burst out laughing.
"You'd better get ready," Ian said.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, heading for the bathroom. I showered off quickly and got dressed, then went out to say goodbye to Ian. He was back in bed, apparently asleep.
"You hypocrite," I said, shaking my head. "Tell me to get out of bed so you can fall in it? Don't think so." Finding a pillow on the floor that had fled from ourescapade earlier the previous night, I grabbed it and flung it at his head. He jumped up and I laughed, feeling the beginning of a stitch in my side. Well, at least the man was good for my sense of humor, not to mention keeping in shape
"Just making up for waiting last night," he said.
"Sure," I replied, going over to the bed. "Well, I'm going to keep my promisealthough what I wouldn't give for today off" I kissed him goodbye and said, "Don't wear yourself out."
"I have no intention of doing sountil later tonight, at least," he said with a smile, flopping back in bed.
"Bye, Rip," I said.
"That's Mr. Van Winkle to you," he said, raising one arm in the air, index finger pointed at the ceiling, but not bothering to pull the rest of his body into an upright position.
"Right. Bye, Ian." I jogged down the stairs and out of my apartment, reaching my bike in record time. Sure, Pezzini, rush to your doom,' I thought. Today's gonna be hell.'
I sought out Connor as soon as I reached the precinct, locating him at the "coffee" machine. The homemade brew was getting steadily worse every day.
"So, where are my tapes?" I asked, not bothering with a greeting.
"Good morning, Connor. How are you? Oh, you busted your ass last night? I'm sorry. I'll be glad to help you now."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. My tapes?"
"Bad news, Pez. Irons was having maintenance done on the whole security system and all the cameras were out of commission."
"Completely?"
"Completely."
"Damn! Someone up there hates me, because they never give me a break!" I said, glaring at the ceiling.
"Well, since we don't have any leads on this, we might as well do some paperwork."
"Great. What about Gina, though? We haven't found anything that supports finding the drugs on her desk."
"We're not finished with her yet." I eyed him skeptically. "I swear, Pez, if we can't find enough evidence to continue with Gina, we'll let her go as soon as we can."
"As we should," I reminded him.
"Hmmm. Yeah. But I still think she's the one." Connor headed into our office.
"It can't be that simple," I muttered. "Then the powers that be would actually be cutting me some slack."
We sat down to our desks piled high with stacks of folders and I decided to ask a question that had been plaguing me earlier.
"Hey Connor?"
He grunted, his nose buried in a file.
I grinned fleetingly at his resemblance to me sometimes, then continued. "Last night when I was talking to Gina and she was telling me about what went down at Vorschlag before you brought her in, she was telling me that you were looking around on her desk and inexplicably found the drugs."
"So? That's pretty much how it happened. The bag was behind the computer monitor. What about it?"
"She made it sound like you put them there."
Connor turned white. "Wha? I mean–I didn't–that would be tampering with the scene or whatever! I would never–!"
His faltering hardly convinced me of his innocence, but I couldn't tell if guilt or shock initiated the stammers. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment and went back to my files.
"Whew! Finally done with this stack," I said, looking up briefly.
"Only four more to go," Connor said, stretching with a triumphant smile on his face. "I, however, am on my last one."
"Because you're still in the "dufus rookie" category and aren't burdened with what we experienced cops call responsibility."
"Jeez, Pez. You are great at raining on parades, you know?"
"I never said I was an optimist," I replied, shrugging.
"Hey, Pez?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you do me a favor? This file is incomplete and I don't think that anyone but Vicki could fill it in. Since you've reached a break in the never-ending pile of paper, could you run down to the morgue and ask the Queen of the Dead for the missing info?"
"Sure," I said, taking the folder. "Anything else, my lord?" I continued, taking on the air of a maid.
"Not at the moment, Sara. Thank you, though," Connor replied, sounding remarkably like Irons.
Shaking my head, I left and headed down to the morgue. "Hey Vic! You busy?" I asked on arrival.
"Well," she said, brushing back a stray lock of hair with the back of her latex-protected hand, "I'm really supposed to be checking out this guy's bowel, butfor you, Pez, I will gladly let it wait."
"Thank God. For a minute there I was afraid you'd make me watch," I said.
"I can always use a hand," Vicki said.
"Ergh. Forget it. I see enough of that at the crime scenes and then I spend the rest of the day trying to forget the unforgettable."
"Unforgettable, that's what you are," Vicki began singing.
"Aaah!" I said, clapping my hands and the folder I held over my ears. "Anything but that!"
"Just joking, Pez. So what's up?"
I took down my hands, acting nervous, then smiled. "Rookie seems to be getting down to business. Whatever dope that started this file seems to have forgotten something and Connor was hoping you would know what it was." I put the folder on a desk in front of her. Vicki leafed through it, talking to me all the while.
"So the rookie's adjusting?"
"Pretty well. Just hope he didn't screw up in the Irons case by bagging a "suspect" prematurely."
"Really?"
I filled her in.
"So the receptionist thinks that she saw Connor plant the drugs?"
"That's what she said. I'm taking Connor's word that he didn'tfor now."
"Hmmwhat about that other case, the, uh, Thompson murder?"
"Nothing new yet. I'm beginning to wonder, though."
"About what?" Vic asked carelessly.
"About how that box found its way onto my desk."
"Fluke," she said.
"Did you see the top?" I asked.
"No, I was kind of preoccupied with what was in the box, Pez," she said, giving me a Look.
"Well, if you had, then you would have noticed that it was addressed to me," I said.
Vicki just had to pause at that one. "Damn!"
"Yeah, I know. Which means that the killer is probably someone I know," I said.
"Yeah, how many people are gonna know specifically about Detective Pezzini, 11th Precinct? Not even lots of people on the force in the other precincts would. It's gotta be a local. Familiar face or former felon."
"Exactly." I glanced around and came a little closer, trying to ignore the formaldehyde. "If you hear anything, you know, on the sly, let me know, okay? Something like this won't stay secret for long, especially in this place," I said, voice lowered.
"Really. I'll keep an ear open," Vicki promised.
"Thanks. Did you finish the file?"
"Yeah. Here you go," she said, handing it back to me. "Some dumb-ass forgot to put in the location of the body."
"Thanks for straightening that out. Talk to you later."
"Bye, Pez," Vicki said, and I left the morgue.
I made my way back to the office and glanced in through the window on my way. Connor seemed to be having a heated conversation with someone on his cell phone. I opened the door and was greeted with a hurried, "Gotta go," and Connor hung up.
"Was I interrupting something?" I asked, eyebrow arched.
"Nope, not at all. Just some personal shit. Now, let's get back to work."
"Aye, aye, sir," I said with a sarcastic salute, and we dove back into the sea of paper. Before I got too involved, I cast a quick glance across my desk at my busy partner. Could he possibly be involved in a girl's murder? Or tampering with evidence? I had no idea, but, as I knew all too well, appearances were deceiving.